Requiem
by MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Szayel Aporro Granz was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a stupid man. By his calculations, this scenario was highly unlikely, but not impossible. And that made all the difference. Look out Shinigami, the madness is back.


_Disclaimer: _I do not own Bleach or any of its affiliates. Anything that you recognise is property of its respective owners. Any relations to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

_Base/s: _Bleach

_Title:_ Requiem

_Summary: _Szayel Aporro Granz was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a stupid man. By his calculations, this scenario was highly unlikely, but not impossible. And that made all the difference. Look out Shinigami, the madness is back.

_Music used for inspiration:_ Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) – Eurhythmics,

* * *

No doubt Mayuri had hoped to drive him into insanity to heighten his torture, but he was already insane wasn't he?

His madness sustained him. Through the infinite seconds trapped in that hell, the thought of bloody, boiling revenge kept him going.

That, and the slow, although steady, increase in the speed of time. It would take a long time, he knew, to free himself from this, whatever it was. But he had time, plenty of it. Even though his hand was on fire and the point of the sword was, and had been, embedded in his chest for years now. But he was breaking free. The faint blue glow of his healing reiatsu shone from his skin. Unfocused as it was it was weak, but it was all he needed.

The days and nights passed at a snails pace. The harsh desert sun burnt his flesh and the freezing wind whipped against his body. He was dying of thirst, feeling the stabbing pain from hunger and his muscles were wasting away. Sand storms came and passed and filled him with new respect (or as close as he could get) for the destructive power of nature.

Some days he felt like giving in, the feel of the sword against an open wound was agonising. Sand stung it, increasing the pain tenfold.

He felt claustrophobic even while he was out in the open. He yelled, screamed and cursed, all in the prison of his own mind.

The boredom almost killed him. A mind like his, starved of information and something to occupy it with would rebel. And rebel it did. As the Espada representing Madness, he hadn't been especially stable to begin with. Now his thoughts turned from cruel apathy to a boiling desire to see the world burn. It would burn, and he would laugh. Last, longest.

Dark, cruel thought bubbled in his mind. The pick haired scientist did what he did best. He planned.

* * *

He was so close! So very close to freedom! It was only a matter of time.

* * *

He collapsed, gasping, onto the sand. The rubble from the battle had long since been covered by the sands and he was up to his knees in it. His muscles, not overly large to begin with, were weak. His chest wound bled out with new intensity and his eyes stung.

His muscles, not used to any sort of change in movement, gave way. It was heard to breathe, the desert sun beating down on him. Sapping his strength. He just wanted to close his eyes, just for a minute. His eyelids felt so _heavy..._

He bit his tongue sharply to keep himself awake. He could not fall asleep, to do so meant death. And he had invested far too much in his survival to fail now.

He had no strength left. Trapped in his Resurrection form for far too long, his reiatsu reserves were almost depleted.

Maybe he could just sleep. Not for long, he assured himself, just a little nap. Not for long.

His eyes fluttered closed.

* * *

He awoke to beeping. His whole body felt heavy, it was an effort to simply inflate his lungs. One by one, his senses filtered messages to his brain. He was lying on something hard. His skin was cold. The beeping continued. His chest hurt. So did his hand. He could smell disinfectant and the faint smell of dust.

He felt tired again.

He felt his breathing slow again and sleep took him.

The next time he awoke was to something touching his chest. Cold, clammy fingers poked and prodded gently at his wound. He groaned, yet was unable to open his eyes. A small, nasally gasp was heard above him. The clammy hand was placed on his forehead. He made a noise in the back of his throat. He felt a prick in his arm.

He fell into unnatural blackness.

This time he could open his eyes.

His vision consisted of white. Lots of white. He groggily moved his head to the side and could vaguely make out the screens and machines of a hospital or lab.

He lay there for a few minutes, listening to the beep of the heart monitor. His breathing was still heavy, but it was easing up. He lifted his head. He felt weak. He was lying on a hospital bed. It was hard but not uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and tried to prop himself up. He couldn't lift his body. His arms shook and he was out of breath, but by sheer force of will, he managed it.

Everything was still fuzzy and he raised a hand to rub his eyes, fingers automatically working under his glasses, he massaged his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, everything was much clearer.

This... this was his lab! Not his main lab in Las Noches, but his smaller although no less advanced lab underneath the sands of Hueco Mundo.

They were several hundred meters below the ground if he recalled correctly and he was sure that he did.

Looking around and feeling a slight pang of fondness shoot through him, he heard quick footsteps.

Instantly on his guard, although he could do nothing if the person _was_ hostile in his current state, he watched the door.

It was pushed open and he came face to face with the last person he expected. Verona, his faithful Fraccion was standing in all his rotund glory, gaping at him.

"V-Verona?" he coraked, his throat hurt something awful and his voice sounded dry and fragile.

"Master Szayel Aperro! Master Szayel Aporro is awake! Verona is happy happy!" seeing that his Fraccion was going to go on, Szayel cut him off.

"Verona? What- why?" he sounded like an idiot, he absently thought to himself. Can't even make a coherent sentence.

Verona bounded up and down, his chubby little face in a huge grin.

"I still loyal Master Szayel Aperro! I sense you awake from freezing, so we bring you here! I fix!"

Szayel allowed pride to seep into whatever he had now instead of a heart.

He smiled, ignoring the pain it cased his dry lips when they stretched.

"Thank you Verona."

His Fraccion had never looked so happy. He bounced up and down and wrung his hands together, basking in his Masters approval.

"What happened after I-" he didn't want to say it. "froze?"

Verona's grin disappeared and he stopped bouncing. He bit his lip.

"The other Espada sir, they... they is dead sir."

Szayel was shocked. Not something that happened often.

"All of them? What about Ichimaru, Tousen?" he asked.

Verona looked morose.

"Yes Master. Everyone is dead sir." He took a shuddering breath. "Lord Aizen is dead as well sir."

Szayel almost failed to comprehend what his Fraccion was saying.

Aizen? Dead? It didn't seem possible. Never could he have predicted this.

"I... see." He said. "What about-" his voice cracked and he grimaced. Verona hurridly handed him some water which he took and drank.

Nodded to his Fraccion, something he would never have done before, he continued speaking.

"My other Fraccion?"

Verona looked even more sad. He shook his head.

"They, they all went to fight Master. I-" the little hollows voice shook and he looked like he was about to burst into tears. Szayel almost shouted but restrained himself. "I stayed behind! Oh Master Szayel Aperro, I hid! Hid hid hid so they wouldn't find me!" it was obvious that Verona felt ashamed.

And well he should be, coward, the scientist thought.

"I am thankful Verona. Had you not hidden, I would not be here."

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. Not the lies, they came naturally to him, but because of the pitiful nature of his Fraccion.

Then again, they weren't made for the company.

He waved Verona away and lay back on his bed. His body ached. He was so tempted to just eat his last Fraccion and be done with it but he knew that wasn't an option. He couldn't do this alone. Besides, Verona was needed for the DNA template to make new Fraccion.

He smiled as he closed his eyes.

Szayel Aporro Granz had been underestimated more times than he could count, he had been mocked, ridiculed and scorned. He had given as good as he had gotten. Why change now? He could list 'death' as one of his accomplishments along with 'years of torture'.

Why not repay the favour?

* * *

A/N: This is too short for my liking. Well, the whole thing will be short, this is just a bunny that followed me everywhere and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm sure you know how it is. Anyway, I need reviews. Everyone says this but I really do! I need motivation otherwise I just do a Starrk and go 'Mnah. I'll do it later, nobody's waiting for it anyway.' So please, tell me what you think.


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